


Safe and Sound

by AlannaofRoses



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Canon-Typical Violence, Evil Author Day 2020, Language, M/M, Panic Attacks, Stalking, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22869865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaofRoses/pseuds/AlannaofRoses
Summary: Celebrity Tim Drake has faced a series of threats and attacks that continue escalating. With the police unable to do anything, Commissioner Jim Gordon refers the young actor to a bodyguard service that's a little outside the norm. Richard 'Dick' Grayson and Jason Todd are nothing like what Tim expected, but they may be the only ones who can protect him.This is a (late) post for Evil Author Day 2020. This is not a complete story, nor do I make any promises. But I always tend to have an easier time writing once the feedback starts, so if you want more of this AU, please comment and let me know what you'd like to see!
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd
Comments: 25
Kudos: 109





	1. Prologue

‘They don’t look like bodyguards.’

It’s Tim’s first coherent thought in hours, sitting inside the surrealist police station painted in red and blue at three in the morning. He's dazed, still, his swollen lip and brow throbbing in time to his heartbeat. The adrenaline is wearing off, leaving him dizzy with exhaustion. 

Gordon looks up as they enter, and only the man's calm demeanor keeps Tim in his chair. 

One looks like a thug, a street rat who could take any five of the cops milling about in a fair fight. He is a solid wall of muscle that ripples as he stalks across the precinct. Tattoos peek from under his sleeves and the smokey scent of cigarettes clings to his leather jacket. The way he moves is dangerous, predatory. He is a man designed to inspire fear.

The other is his exact opposite. Tim had met hundreds of businessmen, and this man wore the casual veneer of every one of them. He looked frightfully young, a twenty something playboy CEO. And yet, there was something in the way he moved that warned Tim he was far more than he appeared, a wildness not quite contained by his polished cover. 

They walked through the precinct like they owned it, dismissing the cops around them as if they were scenery. Tim had a feeling they would have been just as comfortable whether they were in a sewer or the White House itself. It was the kind of gift he had always envied. 

Thug scans the room in a continual, unobtrusive sweep from his place just out of step from CEO. CEO must trust Thug completely, because he doesn’t even glance at his six before locking eyes with Tim. Those sharp, fey features soften in acknowledgement, a feral promise playing at the edges of his smile. 

Staring into that intense blue gaze, Tim felt something he hadn’t since the first threat nearly a month ago.

Safe.


	2. Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grayson-Todd Protection Service faces off against an old foe in Metropolis, unaware of the danger that haunts the streets of Gotham City in their absence.
> 
> Join me on Tumblr for updates and behind-the-scenes extras as I work on this and other stories! alannaofroseswrites.tumblr.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! This chapter was like pulling teeth (I should know, I just had my wisdom teeth removed). Thank you for all of your preemptive encouragement! It really did get me moving. This is quite a bit different than anything I've yet written, but I'm very excited to see where it takes me. Please leave any concrit if you have it to improve this and future stories. Of course, I also accept pure praise if you are so led. :)
> 
> No promises about when the next chapter is coming, but I have a plan for where this story is going. It might take me a while to update so please be patient with me! I'm super excited to share this story with you all. Let me know if I forgot to tag something, especially in later chapters. I'm doing my best but I'm just one person. 
> 
> Finally, thank you all one more time, especially those who commented on the prologue. This chapter would not have happened without you. I hope it lives up to your expectations! 
> 
> All my best, Alanna

Richard “Dick” Grayson leaned casually against a marble pillar, an untouched champagne flute in his hand and an unimaginably bored expression on his face. The sounds of a string quartet filtered through the airy venue, while the upper crust of Metropolis mingled and flattered amid a low murmur of voices. 

It was an impressive display of casual wealth to be sure. Only an enormous sum of money could turn this sort of politicking into a cozy, companionable gathering. No guest was left alone for a moment between the endless line of schmoozing politicians and friendly waiters with drinks and finger foods. Lex Luthor himself, the magnanimous host of the evening’s festivities, was surrounded by an ever-changing crowd of suck-ups and ass-kissers. 

At the moment, Dick blended with the Metropolis crowd perfectly. His tastefully expensive suit was perfectly pressed and tailored, his artfully messy hair lending him a roguish, fey air that drew female - and some bolder male - gazes. 

Of course, there was only one gaze he returned with anything other than kind disinterest. His partner, Jason Todd, stood at attention about thirty feet away, just off the right shoulder of their client for the night. Clark Kent was no fragile flower himself, but even he was dwarfed by Jason. Generously muscled, with ink poking from the collar of his cheaper suit and a faint air of cigarette smoke wafting after him, Jason was every inch a bodyguard. 

Unlike Dick, who could blend into any situation like a chameleon, Jason’s job was to plant himself firmly in the obvious line of fire. The trick was that he left a small, seemingly insignificant flaw in his guard- one only the most highly trained would pick up on. But that was the trap. While their hitman was focused on slipping past Jason’s guard, he’d never notice Dick coming up behind him. 

They would need all their tricks tonight. 

Clark Kent – their client – was one half of the famous Kent-and-Lane reporting duo. Their partnership had been the Daily Planet’s best decision in history as together they had covered – and uncovered – some of the biggest stories in the United States and beyond. 

Such an illustrious career came with its own challenges, though. Kent had found that out the hard way when he had gone after Lex Luthor himself, a man whose meteoric rise to power had come with more than its fair share of dirty laundry. Kent had written a damning article about several of Luthor’s indiscretions that was at least partially credited for his loss of the presidential nomination.

Luthor’s supporters had been furious. 

Clark had begun to receive death threats. First to his office, then to his home address, and finally slid under his house door. It got to the point he could barely leave his house without fear of attack. Lane had encouraged him to look into getting some sort of personal protection before things escalated further.

Which was where Dick and Jason entered the picture. The Grayson-Todd protective detail had been a jewel in Gotham PD’s crown. The best of the best, a discreet two-man team that practiced minimally invasive security and bodyguard services. Dick was a former acrobat turned adopted socialite after the tragic murder of his parents. He’d kept the strong, lithe build and grace of his upbringing but added on all the best martial arts classes money could buy. Jason’s past was a bit shadier. A street kid to the core, he had the wits and grit of a survivalist with the musculature of a weight-lifter. Where Dick relied on speed and flexibility, Jason was all strength and stamina. They made a formidable team.

A team that had taken down one too many of Luthor’s hired hitmen. 

Not that any of those hitmen could actually be traced all the way back to Luthor of course, the man was much too clever and sneaky for that. His friend of a friend whispered in someone’s ear, and the deed was put into motion. And then Dick and Jason stopped it, again and again. Finally Luthor had had enough and he had set out to ruin the Grayson-Todd agency for good, and he almost succeeded. Despite their reputation and record, Luthor was powerful enough to get them banned from all official Gotham recommendation lists. 

Kent had found them through his own research into Luthor and realized the opportunity. Not only was Grayson-Todd the best, they also had a rather personal vendetta against the man trying to kill him. When he contacted them, Dick and Jason had been more than happy for the chance to get a little payback.

That payback was about to come to pass. Dick spotted him easily. He was good, as they had suspected. They had compiled a dossier on the people Luthor and his cronies were mostly to hire for a high-target assassination like this, and this man had been at the top of the list. 

Dick finally took a sip of his champagne, meeting Jason’s eyes over the gold-leaf rim. His partner shifted his stance slightly in acknowledgement. Dick made a face at the taste of the champagne, feigning disgust and turning his shoulder to set the flute down on a nearby table.

The large decorative mirrors on the wall gave him a perfect view of the hitman as he wandered ever closer to Kent. 

Jason had leaned over to murmur something to the reporter, for all appearances completely oblivious to the danger. The hitman had a perfect shot at Kent. 

Faster than the crowd could react the man pulled his gun, leveling it towards the hapless reporter and the bodyguard who had left him wide open.

And promptly sprawled across the sleek marble flooring as Dick slammed the side of his hand into the man’s neck. 

Kent startled back, the crowd now realizing there was a situation and beginning to react, panic spreading like waves across the guests. Luthor was already scowling from across the room.

Dick flashed him a fey smile and knelt next to the hitman, checking his pulse. Jason was soothing Kent in his ground-glass voice, a hand on the reporter’s arm. “Easy there, Kent. I told you Dickie had it covered.” His partner’s voice crawled its way down Dick’s spine and settled low in his belly. Successful takedowns always left him a little hot. For their tactics to work, he and Jason had to be perfectly tuned to one another. Every signal, every movement, every breath had to flow from one to the other in absolute harmony lest someone snuck past their guard. 

That sort of heightened awareness had a way of drawing people together. In fact, Dick sometimes wondered if they’d even be Dick-and-Jason without the mortal danger they faced every job. 

Security was bulling their way through the crowd as Dick determined the hitman was in no danger of dying before his court date. There were sirens, too, just on the edge of his hearing. Dick took a deep, fortifying breath and pushed aside all thoughts of what he wanted to do to Jason later, rising in one fluid motion. 

Jason was watching him, that intense green gaze sweeping him in a motion that was part concern and part appreciation, and Dick smirked back. Kent was calmer now, staring down at his would-be killer with wide eyes. Dick glanced over to check on him, and just before security swamped them all, the reporter mouthed ‘thank you’. 

Dick felt a glow of pleasure from a job well done. Another client was safe to live their life in peace. 

A couple of the security guys peeled the now-stirring hitman off the floor, frog marching him out the double doors to await a patrol car. Others took control of Dick, Jason, and Kent, separating the three and beginning what Dick knew would be a long and predictable round of questioning, the answers to which would then be repeated all over again for the sake of the police reports. 

He caught sight of the other two occasionally in the chaos as the partygoers filtered out under the watchful eyes of the police, the party effectively ended amidst the excitement. While Dick had gone so far as to remove his suit jacket and loosen his tie against the warm summer night, Jason had predictably lost not only his jacket and tie, but also his belt and shoes at some point in the proceedings. 

Dick had to admit the sight of him barefoot with those expensive sleeves rolled up to his elbows was sexy as hell. 

“Thank you, Mr. Grayson.” The officer questioning him flipped his notebook shut, drawing Dick’s attention back with a start. “We will be in touch with any further questions.”

“Of course, Officer…Lake. Thank you.” Dick flashed the man his most charming smile, waiting until the officer moved off before reaching into his suit pocket and retrieving his vibrating phone. He didn’t bother to check the caller ID. This was his work phone, and there was only one reason people called this number. 

“Grayson-Todd Protective Services, this is Richard Grayson speaking.”

“Dick.” 

Dick pulled the phone away from his ear, checking the screen, belatedly, for the caller ID. He blinked at the screen a moment, and then lifted it again. “Gordon. What a surprise. Thought we were done after Gotham PD disowned us.”

Jim Gordon huffed into the phone. “The department may have severed our professional relationship, but I hope we’re still friends, kiddo.”

Dick moved off from the still-busy crowd, heading for a small semi-enclosed garden area. “Of course we are, Jim. I’m sorry. What do you need?”

“You on a case right now?” There was a rustling sound over the line, and Dick had a perfect mental image of Gordon sitting in his office, one elbow on the desk and the other hand splayed out over a case file, the warm light from his desk lamp spilling over everything. 

He could almost see a little boy in the chair across the desk, big blue eyes under charcoal curls, scared of his own shadow but knowing Gordon would protect him from the monsters that had killed his parents. 

Dick’s voice was soft with the memory. “Just wrapped one up actually.” He glanced over to where Kent was wrapping up his own interviews, an ugly orange shock blanket tucked snuggly about his shoulders. “Why?”

Gordon sighed. “Might have another one for you.”

Dick cocked his head. “Asking as a friend? You in trouble, Jim?”

“No, no, not me.” Gordon assured him. “It’s a kid, Dick.”

It was always a kid. 

“I lost an officer tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” Dick murmured sincerely.

“Thanks kiddo.” Gordon sighed again, the weight of the sound settling on Dick’s shoulders. “It’s a tough case. And like I said, the client’s young. I promised him we could keep him safe, but I gotta admit, Dick, we’re failing. This is the second time it’s been too close. I’m afraid we won’t get lucky a third time.”

Dick leaned back against a decorative stone wall, crossing his ankles idly. “What do you need from us, Jim?”

“You and Todd, you put Scarecrow away all those years ago.”

It wasn’t quite a question. Dick felt ice trailing down his spine. “You know we did, Jim.”

“He’s out.” Dick felt the shock of the blow travel through him. “He’s got his sights on a kid this time. Same MO, same creepy mind games, but this time he’s escalating much faster. He’s been in the kid’s house, messed with his car, got into his computer. Caught the kid and his detail on the street last night. Beat the kid all to hell and stabbed the officer assigned to him. Cop died in the hospital an hour ago. Dick, I have no idea where to go from here.” There was a heavy pause. “You know I wouldn’t ask this of you if I thought there was a better option. But you two know Crane better than anyone. You might be able to protect this kid a lot better than we can right now.”

Dick’s heart was simultaneously thudding against his chest and forcing its way up his throat. He’d faced some of the deadliest assassins in the world, and nothing had scared him quite like the thought of going another round with Crane. Scarecrow. It had been hard enough to outsmart him the first time. The man was a warped genius, using intense psychological warfare to demoralize and terrify his victims before he ever laid a hand on them. Once he did take them, they spent an average of three days in a fearful hellscape before their bodies gave out. Dick and Jason had taken nearly six months to finally catch him, and he’d left at least five bodies behind.

He was supposed to be in Arkham Asylum for life. Dick and Jason had locked him in there and thrown away the key. 

“Dick?” Gordon’s voice finally filtered into Dick’s awareness. “Please. I don’t want to lose this one.”

Dick sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “I know Jim. I’ll talk to Jason.”

“Ok.” Gordon sounded relieved. “Kid’s here at the station until we can get a safe house organized. You can pick him up here if you’re in.”

“Ok.”

Gordon sombered. “I’m sorry Dick.”

“I know.”

“Be careful, kiddo.”

Dick cracked a mirthless grin. “Always am, old man.”

He stared at the phone for a long minute after hanging up. He wasn’t seeing his own face in the dark screen, but rather the face of Scarecrow’s last known victim. Not even thirty, his face twisted in an expression of such horror it had turned the stomachs of even the experienced beat cops. 

And now he was after a new victim. A kid. 

“Dick?” Jason’s eyes were sharp, concerned. 

Dick looked up, knowing Jason could see how shaken he was. 

“What’s wrong?” His partner knelt in front of him, peering up into Dick’s face. 

Dick took a deep breath. “We need to go back to Gotham.”

“Why?”

“Scarecrow.”

Jason’s face shuttered. His hands curled into fists against Dick’s knees. “What’s that bastard done now?”

“He’s after a kid.” His own voice sounded like it was coming from far away. He couldn’t get enough air. 

“Dick! Dickie, hey, hey, breathe.” Jason was easing him down to a sitting position against the wall. Dick arched against the cool stone as he fought for air. “Count with me, Dickie. In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four. In…”

Dick squeezed Jason’s hand tightly as the panic finally started to recede, grateful they were hidden from the remnants of the crowd by the wall. The last thing their already shot reputation needed was footage of Richard Grayson having a panic attack after saving a client. 

Jason waited until he was calm and limp, the fading rush of adrenaline leaving him drained. “Gordon?” His partner asked. 

Dick nodded wearily.

“Tonight?”

Another nod.

Jason sighed and swore. “Ok. You good?”

“Yeah.” He winced at the hoarse croak.

“Good.” Jason stood and held out his hands to pull Dick up. Dick regained his feet only to be pulled in tight against Jason’s chest, his partner’s arms a solid band across his back. 

Jason pressed a kiss into his dark curls. “Let’s go catch that sick son of a bitch all over again.”


	3. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick and Jason go to pick up their newest client at the Gotham Police Department. Jason begins to realize this case may hit closer to home than anyone was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I have not been able to write much with everything going on. I finally got a little bit of my groove back this past week (playing around with some Leverage AUs) so here is the next chapter of Safe and Sound! I hope it was worth waiting for.

Jason wished this 3am visit to a police station was an abnormality. In truth, he and Dick had been in similar situations far too many times. Seems there was always another bad guy to catch, always another person who needed protection.

The station was a familiar mix of stale coffee and harsh cleaning chemicals. Jason wore his favorite leather jacket for just this reason. The heady scent of cigarette smoke wafted from it, a souvenir of the long hours he spent with the street kids whenever he wasn’t on a job. Strange as it was, the scent grounded him.

He’d need all the help he could get tonight.

Dick walked in front of him, all easy grace and elegance for the benefit of their client. But Jason could see the faint tremors that still touched his hands. It had been a long, hard night already and it was far from over.

Jason was keeping careful watch of their surroundings, almost unconsciously. When not actually on the job, he and Dick had a number of subconscious patterns they adopted. When entering new territory, Jason kept his eyes open to the bigger picture, assessing potential threats and gauging exit strategies. Dick took their destination, making sure the path was clear ahead and focusing on their point of interest.

Jason knew the minute he spotted their client. Dick’s whole demeanor shifted from business-like to soft, a move designed to foster instant trust in their -often traumatized- client. Dick had the type of personality that had clients eating out of his hand within minutes of meeting him. Jason was often a harder sell, but his formidable bulk completed the illusion of absolute protection that made Grayson-Todd such a success.

And it was an illusion. Good as they might be, even they couldn’t prepare for everything.

Gordon had spotted them now, and rose to greet them. The commissioner looked pinched and pale, his uniform rumpled in a way Jason had rarely seen. He felt a gentle surge of pity for the man. Gordon was far outnumbered on a force that ranged from corrupt to inept.

“Dick, Jason, thank you for coming.” Gordon glanced first at Dick, who ignored him, still focused on their client, then extended his hand to Jason.

Jason shook it, then looked over to see what had Dick so entranced.

The first glance of Timothy Drake was a shock. Other than the obvious blood and bruises that spoke to a rough night, with those dark curls and blue eyes he was staring at what could have been a younger version of Dick. ‘Gordon, you old softie.’ Jason mentally chided the old man.

Not that Dick was much better. The way he was looking at the kid, Jason knew what was going through his head. Honestly, they ought to recuse themselves from this client right now before anybody got too attached. That was one of the rules of bodyguarding- never get too close to a client. Distractions could cost a client- or their bodyguard- their life.

“Here,” Gordon was saying, guiding Dick forward, “let me introduce you. Tim, this is Dick Grayson and his partner Jason Todd. They are the bodyguards I was telling you about.”

The young man stood with a poise twice his age. Despite the bruises on his face, he smiled at them. A trickle of dried blood crusted his brow, and his lip was puffy and red. He looked like he’d been through hell, and if Gordon was to be believed, he had. Scarecrow certainly hadn’t lost his touch even after three long years in Arkham.

“Good to meet you.” Tim held out a small, bird-like hand.

Shit.

Jason hadn’t met Dick when he had first come to Gordon, an orphan with murdered parents, but he could imagine it. And his imagination looked eerily like this fragile bird between them. He was pretty sure they were already in too deep. And with the look on Dick’s face, they weren’t going to be able to walk away now.

Dick took Tim’s hand in his own larger one. Their long delicate fingers were only distinguished by color, Dick’s deeply tanned skin contrasting with Tim’s nearly translucent hand. “Hey.” Dick smiled at the boy, his voice warm and smooth, no hint of inner turmoil. “I hear you’ve been having some problems lately.”

Timothy Drake smiled wryly. “A few, yeah.”

Kid had spunk, at least.

“Come into the conference room, boys.” Gordon said, motioning to them. “We can discuss everything in there.”

He guided Tim away, and Jason took the opportunity to touch Dick’s arm lightly, a question and a grounding motion in one. His partner’s arm shivered under his touch as Dick looked back at Jason. For a moment, they held a silent conversation.

After a moment, Dick sagged. Jason took a micro-step forward to place his solid bulk against his partner, lending Dick whatever strength he could, knowing the storm happening in Dick’s brain. Seeing the boy- so like himself- would have swamped him with memories, both good and bad. Not to mention the remnants of his earlier panic attack and the mere threat of Scarecrow’s return to their lives. By all rights they shouldn’t be here. But if they had to be, Jason sure as hell wasn’t letting Dick face any of this alone.

All of this Jason understood without words. It had been a long time since they’d needed words with each other. His hand came to rest, gently, in the small of Dick’s back. A firm reminder that whatever happened, they would face it together.

With a deep breath, Dick straightened and headed for the conference room, Jason his quiet, comforting shadow.

Tim was already perched in one of the deceptively uncomfortable chairs. The boy was looking around nervously, trying to size them up without being obvious about it.

Jason gave him a reassuring nod, trying to tone down his naturally intimidating presence.

Dick slid into the seat across from Tim, next to Gordon at the head of the table. Jason took his customary place next to him. Gordon was flipping through two heavy files and several bits of loose paper. Tim’s file, the old file on Scarecrow’s case, and the as yet unfiled reports from tonight’s attack, no doubt.

Tim was watching the files with a frown. This was the part clients always hated, and no wonder. Not only had their lives been turned upside down already, but now their private lives were being picked apart piece by piece. Dick and Jason would be only the latest voyeurs in a long line. 

Gordon began with a summary of the original Scarecrow case, a refresher for everyone.

They were about halfway through when Jason happened to glance over and see the Tim had fallen fast asleep. He raised a brow at the boy, glancing from him to Dick. His partner’s eyes were mirthful, melting Jason’s heart. Dick had been so clearly on edge since the call from Gordon that it was a huge relief to see him relax a bit.

“He’s been up for hours.” Gordon murmured softly. “I don’t think he’s been to bed since early yesterday.”

Jason shrugged off his leather jacket, which he had grabbed from the car as soon as they’d escaped Luthor’s dreadful party, and draped it over the kid against the chill of the police station. Tim sighed, burrowing deeper into the fabric.

“Well, we still need to go over this case.” Gordon finally said, drawing Jason’s attention back. “And it might be better if we can get it over with while he’s out. He’s been through it once already; he doesn’t need to hear about it again.”

It was about as bad as Jason had expected. Mercifully, Crane hadn’t killed anyone yet, but with his MO and his rapidly escalating behavior, it was only a matter of time. Tim’s house, car, and social media profiles were all compromised, so they would need to take the kid off the grid. Gordon had a safe house ready for them.

As an actor, Tim would probably want to keep working. As far as possible, the set would be secured and extra security provided whenever Tim was there. It was up to Dick and Jason how often and how long Tim was able to be exposed, and if it came down to it, whether the risk was worth it at all. The production company would work around the situation as much as possible.

Jason scribbled down notes and names, committing relevant people in Tim’s life to memory so he would easily be able to tell friend from unknown. Dick paid careful attention to information about Tim’s habits and relationships, looking for potential weaknesses or footholds Crane could exploit.

They were all tired by the time Gordon wrapped up the briefing and handed them each a stack of files to study and learn. Dick shook Gordon’s hand, murmuring to him softly about being grateful he still trusted them enough to call them.

Jason nudged Tim’s elbow.

The boy came awake almost instantly, bleary and blinking, his dark curls all rumpled to one side. Jason just managed to bite back his smile.

“We’re about to move out, kiddo. Ready?”

Tim narrowed his eyes slightly, most likely at the nickname, but obediently stood, the jacket slipping from his thin shoulders onto the chair behind him.

Jason took it back and shook it out to its full length before settling it back around Tim’s shoulders. “Keep it on for now.” He said. “It’ll help disguise you a bit when we leave.”

Tim nodded seriously and clutched the jacket tighter.

Dick was waving them over now, and Jason placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, steering the kid after Dick and Gordon into the garage where the police kept their vehicles. There were a few unmarked cars and a few undercover cars as well. Gordon guided them to an older model grey sedan with heavily tinted back windows that would blend into Gotham traffic easily.

Tim crawled into the back, still yawning.

Dick took the passenger seat and Jason took the wheel, returning Gordon’s firm nod with a reassuring one of his own.

Dick carefully checked his ankle, letting Jason see the fully loaded and primed gun stashed there if it was needed. Jason’s own were tucked carefully in the bags Gordon had already had an officer move from their old vehicle.

They were as ready as they were going to be.

Jason gave Gordon one more nod, and they pulled out of the garage with about a dozen other cars. Cop cars, unmarked cars, even the car Dick and Jason had driven in all pulled onto the street and split off into a dozen different directions, confusing any watching eyes trying to discern Tim’s destination.

And with that, they were off, coasting through the early morning traffic towards the outskirts of Gotham and the safe house that would become their home for the foreseeable future, until the threat of Scarecrow was gone for good.


End file.
